Audubon County Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Audubon Co., Iowa) 1885-1894, 1887-04-28

might have been," went on, as many q
weary pilgrim has done. with only an
\ added look of sorrow and few lines
more to tell that she had suffered.
Five years more passed slowly on
their way, bringing to Kittie Wilton
first the loss of her father, and follow
ing shortly afterward, the death of her
mother. Then alone, with no one to
| care for, she took up her work, and
patiently, day after day, taught in the
old school.
Many who were not born when she
began to teach there, were now receiv-
ing instructions from her. But with
out the bright hope that had sustained
her in former years the work was more
tiresome, and wrinkles slowly came out
on the fair face, while look of weari-
ness crept into the gray eyes, which
seldom sparkled with mirth or pleas
ure.
The close of one day, however, found
Kittie sitting in the little school deeply
thinking. An open letter lay on the
desk before her. 1t was from the John
of olden times-John Waters. Many
were the changes which time had
brought TO him in five short years. He
was wealthy man-Kittie thought of
this with a sigh, for she remembered
how the wealth was gained. His wife
had been dead a year, and he was now
left with mothcrless child TO care for.
For her sake" he wrote. III can
not ask for myself. but for my little
girls sake | ask you, Kittie, to come
and be a mother to her"
Could she refuse? Did Kittie Wilton
ever refuse to minister to any one who
needed her. No; and the next morn
ing Il letter went speeding to London
to John, telling him that she would be
his wife; and there was enough of the
old-time dream yet lingering in her
bosom to make her happy.
Perhaps she was foolish to gorgive
so easily. But she knew best-can we
Judge her?
So in short time the answer came
back to her, Il will come on for you
at once. Be prepared to return with
me-" and moro which we have no
right to know.
At last the long-lookcd-for day ar
rived, and Kittie. her heart full of the
happiness which had come after so
many years of waiting, went briskly
about her work.
He was coming by the afternoon
train; and as soon as the scholars were
dismissed, she made her way to the
station to await the arrival of the
train.
1t was now half-past four. The
train was due, and Kittie strained her
eyes to see it approach; but all in vain.
No train was in sight.
Very soon she was made aware of IN
excited conversation in the station be-
hind her, of which she caught some
sentences.
AT C. fifteen miles away" she
heard some one say.
Yes" returned another; ''must be
dreadful"
"Down an cnbankment, did you
say?" inquired third.
II suppose So" was the answer,
though news is very meager as yet.
The telegram has but just arrived"
Kite face grew white as she listen
cd to the ominous words.
1t was true. The train bearing
Kitties's lover has been wrecked.
The suspense of the next few hours
was dreadful. lowering between hope
and n dread of the worst, Kittie waited,
for, being a woman, she could do moth,
ing else.
Then the next morning the news
came. The list of dead was headed by
the name of John Waters.
If Kittie had suffered before, this was
tortue. And yet she must act. Ac
companied by an elderly man, one Of
the school committee, she went on tC
G -, found Johns little girl, who wa;
alive and unhurt. and bearing the re-
mains of him who was to have beer
her husband. she returned to her home
But she has grown aged in those few
days. Her hair was thickly sprinkleC
with gray, and her form bowed. As
she stood, few days afterward by the
open grave of John Waters, holding
his child by the hand-a sacred trus
from the dead-no one would have
recognized beneath the heavy Grape
vel the once beautiful and merry
Kittie Wilton.
How well she fulfilled her trust t.
the child you may know, when l tel
you that one cool afternoon in earl'
autumn. Kittie Wilton sat by my sid,
and told me this story as have told i
to you, and was that child whom JOIN
Waters left as a legacy to the woman
whose heart he had cruelty lacerated
1t loved her before, what do yol
think were my feelings then? Why,
worsh ped the sweet, pale-faced woman
who for fifteen years had been m,
more than mother
And there by the grave of my father
where we had come, as we often came
in 1.-THE silent city of the dead" wher
we seemed so near in reality to thos
who were lying sleeping there; ami
the solemn calm which brooded owe
the pleasant place, Kittie Wilton toll
me her story. And when she had flu
ished, could only weep and cling NOR
closely to her who had sacrificed he
whole life for loves sake Chicag
Ledger.
g PrusSian Game.
U For tho rnar anI;nr xp;tb Marol